Darkness Within
by DeliciousNewYork
Summary: Harry's son goes missing, and Harry knows who took him. But no one will believe him.


If you recognize anything, I stole it.

* * *

It was too much. It was hard to breathe. The world had changed, grown darker. Harry felt his life falling apart. He had no one to turn to. NO ONE WOULD UNDERSTAND! And they kept him here, in the dark. For his own good they told him. He needed to be let out.

_Is the Darkness I see truly the Darkness within me?_ Harry questioned his own mind.

Everything started when Harry stopped speaking. And everyone couldn't stand it. He wouldn't give any more interviews, wouldn't speak to his wife, or even to his own children. And so they took him to doctors and healers. But he still wouldn't speak.

_And what was the problem?_ Harry couldn't understand why they wouldn't just let him be! Then the dreams started. Black birds with many eyes pecking out his own. And then the woman. The woman with the eye-patch, cackling the whole time. No one believed she was real, but Harry knew she would come for him one day.

He wasn't safe here.

_Here I am, in feudal Japan, playing duck-duck-goose with an 8 foot troll._

He needed to get out. Escape. But was it possible?

Next were the visions. Waking nightmares that tortured his mind, and body. He would drift off. It didn't matter where he was. At work in the Auror Department, or trying to sleep with his wife, it didn't matter. The visions would still come.

They were all the same. A man with long white hair and cat ears wearing a red jump suit would be stalking him. Searching for its prey. And Harry was it.

The visions were hazy at first, but eventually, they gained clarity. Claws would slash at him, and when Harry was released from the vision, claw marks would be covering his body.

They thought he did it to himself. He wished that he had. Then he would know why.

He should have known what they meant. The visions and dreams. It all became too clear when his son was taken from him.

A giant, many-eyed bird with an eye patch covering about seven of them and dangerous claws took his Albus from him. He should have seen it coming. It's all his fault!

AND NO ONE BELIEVES HIM! He tried to tell them his visions, see if there were clues so he could find his son. He tried to reason, to explain what he saw. But no one wanted him to help. They just put him in the dark suffocating cell. He actually talked. It was the first time in months, and instead of listening, they shut him away.

Ginny. They made a vow to each other, and she broke it when she sent him here. She said it was for his own good, but if she felt it was right, why were unshed tears glistening in her eyes? She had betrayed him. BETRAYED! And everyone was on her side. No one came to help him. No one tried to get him out.

Then they stop visiting. At first, his family would come. They would talk to him, and he would have the opportunity to tell them to look for the cat-eared man. The one who took his son from him. And they would shake their heads, as if he was crazy.

_I'm not crazy!!! I'm not!_

But they didn't listen. The regularity of the visits ceased, and then they stopped all together. He wrote letters, trying to make everyone understand that any of their kids could be next. The demon in red would come for them.

Soon Harry began screaming what he knew to be true, but still no one listened. Eventually his voice became raw, and eventually it was gone. He could no longer speak, he wasn't allowed to write to them anymore, and no one came.

He was alone in the dark.

And then one day he received a visitor, the first in months. Harry did not know who he was, and he didn't care, so long as he would listen to what Harry had to say.

He brought something very peculiar with him. A television.

Harry missed watching the telly. When he wasn't at work, more often than not, he was watching his favorite shows. He loved them all, but did have a few guilty pleasures. Harry just didn't understand why a television was brought in. Not that he wasn't grateful; it just did not make any sense.

"Harry, do you know what this is?" The visitor spoke to Harry as if he was a twelve year old, so Harry just stared at him. Not that he could speak, even if he wanted to.

"Harry, do you remember what sort of shows you used to watch?"

Again, Harry just stared. How was he supposed to remember all the things he watched? He was practically addicted to the telly.

"I'm going to play you something, something we believe you used to watch."

Harry did not avert his gaze. He hadn't blinked in a while either. The stranger pushed the power button, and color struck Harry's eyes. Harry stared in horror at the vision he was confronted with on the screen.

It was the cat-man. And he had a sword. This was demon who took his son. Harry shot straight up from where he was seated, and tried to let out a scream of rage. Alas, he had no voice left.

"Harry, is this the man who took your son?" Harry's silent raging stopped. At last! Someone who was ready to listen to the truth! Harry nodded vigorously, but his enthusiasm began to diminish when the man sighed and shook his head. Harry all but fell back into his seat. He didn't understand. This man had proof of his story, and he still refused to believe.

"Harry, do you know what show this is?"

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. This was not a show! The demon had gotten into the telly! What if his son was in there too!

Harry made a lunge at the screen. The demon man was using his sword to attack something, and these people were just going to let it happen. The stupid man with his stupid questions stopped Harry from smashing his fist into the screen.

"Harry! Harry listen to me! This is not real. It's just a fictional show! It's animated for Merlin's sake!"

Harry was still struggling, desperately trying to attack the cat-eared, red jumpsuit wearing, white-haired demon that stole his son!

"Harry, it's not real!"

Harry couldn't listen, wouldn't listen. He had to get his son out of the television.

"Harry, your son is dead!"

Harry stopped struggling immediately. He sank to the floor. Dead? So he was too late. He couldn't save his son. He had saved the world, but his little boy was dead.

Harry, on his knees, began to rock back and forth, silently keening, tears of grief streaming down his face. The man left in a hurry, as if he were going for help. But Harry knew nothing could help him now.

Harry began to remember things, things he wished would have remained forgotten.

The man in red wasn't real. Harry was the real monster. He was the reason his son was dead. It was his fault. They were right to lock him up. He was the demon, the monster. What sort of person could kill his own son?

The room was more stifling than it had ever been before. He couldn't breath. He tore his shirt off, but the thick air threatened to swallow him. He wanted to end it. End it all.

His glasses flew off in his desperate attempts at air. He slowly picked them up. One of the lenses had popped out. They were glass.

Harry knew what he had to do.

The life began to seep out of Harry as the credits for his favorite show began to roll.

* * *

A/N: What was Harry's favorite show? 


End file.
